Child of Zero
by Schlub-NoogieRat
Summary: She had asked for a sacred, beautiful, and powerful familiar. Whatever was inside this egg, she was certain that it would at least fit the powerful part of that description, if nothing else.


This is a mirror for this story on the Space Battles Creative Writing forum. I'll likely be updating this in snippets in said forum rather than in full chapters since I'm going to focus more on my ZnT/Soul Eater fic and only work on this during breaks from working on said fic. And I'll only update this after there are enough snips to complete each new chapter.

As with my other fic, many details are based on those found in the light novels and side stories, although I will include some aspects from the anime if I feel I can work them in. Additionally, I'm going with the ZnT wiki spelling for some of the names, just to have a definite choice among all the variety of spellings that exist due to a lack of an official novel translation. For example, Sylphid's original name I'm spelling as "Illococoo" since it fits more with the Western spelling of most Halkegenian names (at least appearance wise). Besides, the Irukuku/Irukukwu is just a phonetic spelling anyway based on katakana and may not exactly accurately reflect spelling (resulting in many of the weird spellings sometimes seen in the anime fansubs).

**Chapter 1**

An explosion. Again. Despite all her most earnest and heartfelt prayers, the summoning spell had ended just like every other spell she ever tried: failure. Louise felt her cheeks catch fire from the shame of it all even as she couldn't stop herself from coughing. The explosion had raised more dust than any of her previous ones, and her hand just couldn't quite stop the clouds of it from entering her mouth and nose. The other second-year students of the Tristain Academy of Magic and their familiars were also coughing and hacking loudly while those who'd already managed to get their coughing under control ran their hands over their own bodies, checking to see if everything was uninjured and still in working order. This resulted in a few muted sighs of relief.

"M-Montmorency, are you a-all right?" Louise heard from behind her as her last few coughs wheezed out her lungs.

"Y-yeah, I think I am, Guiche," was the shaky reply.

"Oh, thank the Founder, I'm alive," Louise heard another voice cry out, this one sounding like it was being said through tears. "Thank the Founder and Valhalla above."

Louise scowled as she tried to ignore their histrionics and mockery. She forced her eyes open, only to close them again as they caught a whiff of still-lingering dust. She blinked rapidly as tears began to well up from the irritation. She forced her eyes open again and made herself look at the summoning ground, hoping as she had never hoped before to see _something_ despite the apparent failure.

There was still too much dust. Her eyes stung as she moved toward where she recalled the summoning circle was, stubbornly keeping them open despite the pain. Had she not been so blinded, perhaps she might not have tripped over something.

She fell so suddenly that she was too surprised to cry out until she splashed onto a puddle of something wet, sticky, and absolutely _putrid_. She gasped and inadvertently gulped down a disgusting mouthful of whatever the puddle was, causing her to retch in disgust. Her classmates' histrionics turned into amused hysterics as the clearing dust afforded them enough of a view of the spectacle to start their customary jeering. The pink-haired girl was too busy heaving out the foul liquid and part of her breakfast to notice.

"Ms. Vallière, are you all right?" a concerned voice she belatedly recognized as Mr. Colbert's asked her. She felt arms helping her up and wiping away the slimy fluid covering her.

After a few enthusiastic bouts of spitting and hacking, she managed to wipe away the gunk from her eyes, and she turned to him, croaking, "I—_bleagh!_—I'm f-fine . . ."

"If you're sure," her teacher said skeptically. With a worried look on his balding, bespectacled face, he regarded her and the viscous yellow liquid he was helping to wipe off her.

"Well, I must admit, Vallière," an infuriatingly familiar voice from a tall redhead cut in, "I wasn't really expecting anything, but that really was something. Quite a show."

Another round of laughter accompanied Kirche's own distinctive _ohohoho_, causing Louise's anger to boil over. She opened her mouth to yell a response, but was surprised into silence at Mr. Colbert's stern bark of "That's enough! You're noble students, act like it!"

Her classmates were similarly stunned into silence, unused to such harshness from the usually soft-spoken and absent-minded professor. After a final glare to ensure further silence, the teacher turned to her, face softening.

"Ms. Vallière, I'm sure you would very much like to get cleaned up, but first thing's first." He gestured toward the summoning circle with his staff. "I'm afraid you have to complete the summoning contract."

"What?" She stared at him in confusion. "But I failed. I didn't summon anythi—"

Her voice died in her mouth as she realized that the slime all over her had to have come from somewhere. From around the corner of her eyes she caught sight of what was now within the summoning circle. "A . . . rock?"

"No, Ms. Vallière, I think it's, well, an egg," her teacher added helpfully, gesturing at the ground around them.

After a quick look around, Louise gasped. The ground immediately around them was littered with rubble and what could only be fragments of giant eggshells, given their curves. The puddle she had tripped into was a particularly large piece with a substantial amount of what she now knew was yolk pooled within it. Judging from all of the debris around her and the regularity in the shape of the "rock" on the summoning circle, it was clearly an egg—an _enormous_ egg about as tall as a grown man! She had simply been fooled by its dark, drab color and the substantial amount of dirt and rubble on and around it.

"W-what?" she heard Kirche sputter in disbelief. "There's no way that could be an egg. No creature is large enough to lay such an egg. Not even the largest known dragons can possibly lay an egg that size!"

"Well, it's not unheard of to summon infant creatures as familiars, and such summons are usually as successfully made into familiars as older creatures," Mr. Colbert interjected before shaking his head. "But, no, I've never heard of creatures capable of laying eggs of this size either."

Louise felt a vindictive grin crawl its way across her face. "What's the matter, Zerbst? Your proud fire salamander not so impressive after all?"

She preened. Well, as well as she could preen while slathered all over with disgusting egg yolk. Kirche's new familiar had been one of the more impressive familiars that had been summoned today, and the proud Germanian girl had made sure to rub it in everyone's faces. Or more specifically, in Louise's face. It seemed the Founder had seen fit to humble that pride and had answered Louise's properly humble prayer—and had apparently given her a truly unique familiar as well. Being able to put that flame-tailed lizard and its master in their place was oh so delicious indeed, and Louise savored it viciously.

With a haughty look, Louise turned pointedly away before her longtime tormentor could retort and strode purposefully toward the massive egg.

As she stopped before it, her good mood abruptly deflated. As much as she despised and resented Kirche, the Germanian did have a point. Whatever this was, it was likely to be the offspring of some previously unknown creature. That was cause for concern enough without the obvious question of exactly what kind of creature could have unhatched offspring of such magnitude. Imagining the possibilities . . . she shuddered.

She shook her head to dismiss her concerns. She _had_ asked for a sacred, beautiful, and powerful familiar. Whatever was inside this egg, she was certain that it would at least fit the _powerful_ part of that description, if nothing else. Plus, it was undeniable proof that she wasn't the "Zero" everyone thought she was. With that alone, the Founder had blessed her enough. She shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Pointing her wand at the egg, she took a deep breath and began: "My name is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers, bless the humble being within this egg and make it my familiar."

She was leaning in to kiss the egg when it suddenly shattered, covering her in large eggshell fragments and the all too familiar sliminess of its yolk. She stumbled back and fell on her rump as the now-exposed occupant of the egg shook the yolk off itself and let out a cry that was somewhere between an ungodly shriek and a nasally roar.

Before Louise could get her bearings, the thing suddenly jumped in front of her, causing her to yelp in surprise and fear. At first glance, it looked like a black-skinned dragon, except it didn't appear to have wings. The shape of its hind legs and torso as well as the way it stood also seemed strangely birdlike. It leaned toward Louise and started sniffing her, giving her a good look at its shockingly large reddish-orange eyes.

"Louise!" the professor shouted urgently. "Finish the ritual! _Now!"_

The sudden sound caused the dragon-like thing to jerk back and whip its head around wildly to look at everyone else in the courtyard, letting out a startled roar as it did. Seeing the opportunity, Louise all but launched herself forward and planted a quick kiss on the creature's lower jaw. Just as quickly she jumped back, spitting out the vile yolk that had once again affronted her mouth.

Glowing runes erupted on her new familiar's chest, causing it to howl in pain and thrash on the ground. Louise and everyone else drew back, afraid of whatever wrath the strange larger-than-man-sized reptilian creature might be capable of. It started clawing on the ground frantically, throwing up dirt and grass that caked the yolk-covered Louise in a new layer of filth. She drew back farther, covering her eyes with her arms.

When the rain of earth finally stopped, she put her arms down and found to herself shocked to see that there was now a hole where her familiar had been. She scrambled to it and peered over the edge. She was shocked at how large and deep the hole was given the speed with which events had happened. It was especially impressive given that her familiar was not only a newly-hatched youngling but was also larger than any tunneling creature had any business being. Well, that probably meant that her affinity was Earth, so at least she had that knowledge now.

Her classmates were just as bemused as she was, and a noisy clamor of confusion erupted from the crowd of second-years. Louise ignored them and began shouting down into the hole.

"Familiar! Come back this instant, you hear me! Familiar!"

She leaned in further as she continued screaming and found herself falling in. Her shouts were swallowed midword as she felt a pair of arms suddenly pull her back roughly. She whipped around and was surprised to find the bespectacled deadpan face of a blue-haired girl staring back at her.

"Careless," the girl admonished curtly.

"Tabitha is right, Lou-Lou," Kirche added. "I know you're usually destructive and all, but I didn't think you were also _self_-destructive."

The pink-haired girl fumed, annoyed at being saved and chided by girls that she considered enemies. She pushed herself free from Tabitha's hold and growled "Didn't ask for your help!" brusquely before calling out for her familiar again, this time just a little back from the edge of the hole. Pointedly, she turned her face away to keep both girls from seeing the embarrassed flush on her face.

"Tsk tsk, so ungrateful . . ." Kirche sighed theatrically. "And after Tabitha dirtied herself with that gunk all over you to save you too. Such ignoble behavior, Vallière."

"_Familiar!_" Louise shouted louder and more desperately, trying to drown out Kirche's voice. "Come to me right now, or you won't get fed!"

Then, the ground beneath her began to rumble. Before she could jump out of the way, Louise was suddenly thrown back yet again as the black form of her familiar broke ground right under her feet. As she struggled to stand, sputtering in outrage, a shadow loomed over her and began sniffing her. Satisfied, it stared at her expectantly and let out a something that almost sounded incongruously like _cooing_. Coupled with its large eyes and the way it was bobbing its head, it looked infuriatingly cute despite its sheer size, foreboding black color, and reptilian features.

Louise ground her teeth. She wasn't falling for that.

Glaring fiercely up at her new familiar, she began to angrily wag her finger in front of its face. "Stupid familiar! Bad familiar! Don't ever do that again!"

Naturally, the familiar gave her finger a lick and covered it with slobber.

"Gah!" Louise yipped as she pulled back her hand in disgust. "Familiar!"

Everyone around her (except Tabitha, who nonetheless quirked a corner of her mouth ever so slightly) laughed.

* * *

**_Some time later_**

Louise was happy.

She was covered in disgusting reptilian yolk, eggshell fragments, and saliva, not to mention a good amount of dirt and grass. She felt grimy, sticky, and wet all over in a way she never, ever wanted to feel again. The reek coming off her was the one thing that had caused the laughter and jeering around her earlier to falter. It would probably take hours in the bath for her to start feeling a semblance of being clean, and maybe a few hard scrubs after that to be absolutely sure.

She was still happy. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy in the last few years.

For the first time since she had started practicing on (and miserably failing at) her magic, she finally had a successful spell. And not just any spell, but the all important Summon Servant spell to boot. No more Louise, the shame of the great House of La Vallière. No more Louise the Zero, the noble without the one thing that earned nobility. Her magic had _worked_, and it had been right there for all to see. And if she had succeeded once, then she could succeed again.

Louise turned to her new familiar, who was following dutifully behind her, and smiled the brightest, widest smile anyone who saw her right then had so far seen from her. The familiar's large reddish-orange eyes held hers, and sensing her happiness, it—she couldn't yet tell what its sex was—gave her a pleased coo. She decided that she liked those eyes. Very striking, very intelligent, and very cute. They were the only points of brightness on a creature otherwise covered in black and dark grey.

And even though its body was dark and rough, had scales that reminded her strongly of rock, and bore a row of nasty-looking bumps on its back, Louise still thought that it was pretty adorable. Now that she wasn't being publicly humiliated and laughed at in the middle of the courtyard, she could fully appreciate the infant charms that shown through despite other qualities that could be called nightmarish. It helped that the dark familiar's strangely birdlike legs lent it a gait that reminded her incongruously of a gigantic chick. She hoped it stayed such a blend of ugly and cuddly when it grew older.

At the thought of it growing older, her mood fell a little. The familiar was already larger than she was, and it was still a new hatchling. When it grew . . . her mind boggled at the thought. She had no idea how big the creature could possibly get, but most of the possibilities in her head involved dozens of mails in any dimension. At the _very_ least. She was suddenly apprehensive, wondering how much she'd have to feed the creature and how much room she'd eventually need. Oh well, if it was anything like dragons, at least she'd have some time to prepare for that eventuality.

As if to assure her, her familiar moved forward to nuzzle her gunk-covered pink hair.

"Familiar!" Louise said in surprise and annoyance, but she couldn't quite hide a pleased giggle as well.

She moved aside to make sure that the familiar—she really needed to give it a name—didn't inadvertently get her hair caught in its mouth. She was already afraid that all the disgusting sludge in her hair might ruin it without a ton of effort to clean it up with, and she really didn't need the risk of getting it ruined any worse.

Louise raised a stern finger toward the creature and, in as firm a voice as possible, said, "Familiar, no. Don't do that."

It replied with a surprisingly mournful whine and lowered its head a bit submissively, wide eyes looking up at her from an angle. Louise stomach and chest fluttered, and she suddenly felt both guilty and manipulated.

_Now that's just not fair._

It blinked and cocked its head further.

_Hnnggg . . . terribly unfair._

She let out a breath in exasperated surrender. "Fine. All right, you win."

The pink-haired girl leaned into her familiar as they walked, making sure to place her head in a crook just behind the familiar's head to avoid getting accidentally nipped or licked, and placed an arm around its neck. Her familiar cooed contentedly, and she smiled despite herself.

_O thank you, Dearest Founder,_ she prayed in solemn silence. _Thank you for answering my prayer and giving me such a wonderful familiar. _

Yes, she had a feeling that this would work out just fine.

Still, she needed to send two letters as soon as possible. One to her mother requesting an increase to her stipend for the care and feeding of a growing . . . whatever it was. Her mother had a manticore, so Louise was sure she'd understand, especially given the size of her mother's own summon. And whatever anxiety she felt about asking for more ecu from her rather stern mother was offset by the fact that she now had proof of finally being successful at magery to show her. And a truly unique bit of proof at that.

Not only had she summoned a fine familiar, but she had summoned one so distinct that no one could tell quite what it was. Professor Colbert had been stumped, and he had promised to look up some books for her since he too had been curious. Kiche had been flabbergasted and jealous, and Louise just _relished_ that. _Fire salamander, hah!_

Guiche had suggested that it was some sort of previously unknown mole-dragon given its shocking aptitude at digging, but Louise thought he might've been a bit unobjective given that he had summoned a large mole himself. The other earth mages in her class had also been quick to agree or suggest things of a similar nature. Louise wasn't sure whether she wanted to trust their opinion either given that they seemed to be trying to get some of the novelty and prestige, for lack of better words, of her new familiar to reflect on them, with her being apparently a fellow earth mage and all.

At any rate, that was what the second letter was for. She needed to ask for the opinion of her older sister Cattleya regarding the species of her familiar. If there was any opinion she could trust on this, it was hers. Her older sister was extremely accomplished and knowledgeable in all sorts of creatures magical and mundane, after all. Additionally, it was always a pleasure to get in touch with Cattleya for whatever reason since she had been closest with the kind and soft-spoken older sibling than with anyone else in her family. Louise just knew she would be so proud of her for summoning such a magnificent creature, not to mention pleased at the prospect of being introduced to a being so unique.

She smiled even wider. Nothing—_nothing_—could possibly ruin this day for her.

Beside her, she heard her familiar's stomach rumble.

* * *

Siesta regarded the pink-haired noble girl and her black-and-grey reptilian familiar and tried mightily not to laugh. It would've been hard not to since, taken together, the pair were a ridiculous sight. The former was grimy, wet, and disheveled beyond any pretentions of dignity while the latter kept trying to nuzzle her, much to the other's annoyance. It helped that the familiar looked almost like a cross between a lizard and a gigantic plucked chick—and rumor was that it actually had hatched from an equally gigantic egg—making the noble girl look almost like a comparatively undersized mother hen in comparison. A mother hen with _pink_ feathers. The familiar also kept mewling at its master, reinforcing the impression.

She kept her peace, though, and stood in passive submission, hands kept primly in front of her maid uniform and head bowed slightly. Commoners who frequently served around nobility learned to do so quickly as noble ego was often as easily injured as it was large, and the consequences on a careless commoner who offended that pride could be quite painful, with or without magic. Even if the noble chose to be relatively lenient, their displeasure could still cost a commoner their job, and Siesta would rather not risk this particular one; it was a source of stable and consistent wages and paid much better than most.

"Servant," the young noble before her began imperiously, "my familiar requires feeding. Please take it to the feeding grounds and do so. I must attend to other matters."

_Like taking a good, long bath. Several, probably,_ Siesta thought irreverently even as she kept her face expressionless. Out loud she said, "Of course, milady."

"Very well," the noble said as she gave a curt nod, prim and proper like she wasn't covered in disgusting gunk. Siesta cast her head lower, hoping that this sufficiently hid the twitching at the corners of her mouth.

She peered from the periphery of her vision as the messy mage turned to her familiar, who blinked its eyes at her expectantly. Siesta thought that was kind of cute.

"Familiar," the girl said in the same commanding tone, "follow the servant, and she will feed you. Do you understand?"

Siesta watched, fascinated. She'd heard nobles could command familiars shortly after they were bound, and the familiars would understand said commands due to magic. And while she had fed familiars before and they were always remarkably well behaved, she'd never seen the effect up close with so new a familiar before, however.

The familiar cooed at its master and tried to nuzzle her again, this time sticking its tongue out for a quick lick as well. The pink-haired girl jumped back and began to shout, "No, Familiar! Stop! I said st—gyack!"

A red tongue, contrasting brightly with the rest of the creature's dark hide, slathered the female mage in the face, causing her to push it away in disgust. The young noble began to hack and spit, intermittently scolding her familiar while doing so. It just continued to stare at her expectantly, tilting its head this way and that.

The maid was shaking now with the effort to keep herself from laughing out loud at the sight. She just barely managed to regain composure when the noble shot her a suspicious look; somehow she was able to keep her face carefully neutral. Finally, the noble turned away, and Siesta breathed a small sigh of relief. Knowing what to expect now, Siesta was also able to keep her face steady as the noble struggled to keep her familiar in line. Perhaps the whole magic bond thing was less perfect than she'd heard.

When the young noble got her familiar to listen at last, she was red-faced with frustration. Siesta hoped her own face wasn't as visibly red from the effort it had taken to remain safely stoic.

"Bah, just get him some food!" the girl snapped as she almost pushed the familiar onto her, forgetting to sound aloof and "dignified" in the face of her frustration.

Suddenly, the maid found herself face-to-face with the familiar, and the situation became a lot less amusing. The familiar eyed her attentively as it loomed over, and Siesta squirmed at its gaze. The eyes were a lot less cute when they were up close _and staring at her soul_. Now it was less a newly hatched lizard-chick hybrid and more of a hungry predator, which was really not the thought Siesta wanted in her head as she saw her reflection in its large reddish-orange eyes.

"Eeep!" she squeaked when the familiar suddenly stuck its muzzle at her to sniff her, causing her to jump back in fear.

She was sorry for almost laughing at the noble. This wasn't funny, not at all.

Luckily, its master seemed to realize what was going on because she let out a surprised squeak of her own before suddenly placing herself between Siesta and the beast.

"Familiar, no! Don't eat her! Not food! Not! Food!"

Siesta felt an enormous wave of relief and gratitude hit her even as the noble began to gesture wildly as she chided her familiar yet again.

"This? Like me?" the noble enunciated loudly as she swept her arms over her body. "Not food. People. Like me. _Not. Food._ Understand?"

The familiar let out a mournful moan, causing its master to sigh in exasperation.

"Yes, I know you're hungry," the girl said before pointing her finger at Siesta, causing her to jerk back fearfully. "Follow her. _Follow._ She'll give you food. Give food. But _not_ food."

In response, the familiar lowered its head and gave a mournful whine. If Siesta wasn't so apprehensive, she would have sworn that it sounded apologetic.

"S-sorry about that," the noble said hesitantly, not quite meeting her eyes. Probably because she was unused to apologizing to a lowly commoner. Normally, Siesta would've felt some resentment at that, but she was too grateful and relieved to care at the moment.

"I-it's all r-right, milady." She nodded jerkily, not quite sure exactly what else to say.

"It . . . it won't do that again, I swear," the noble declared. "Right, _familiar_?"

It gave her yet another apologetic whine.

"Good." The noble nodded her head in satisfaction. "Now follow the servant. Follow!"

Siesta bit her lower lip uneasily as the black-and-grey thing approached her. She felt herself tensing and sweating as well. The familiar kept its eyes on her as it closed, and Siesta was almost tempted to run. However, it stopped at a distance from her and waited, turning to look at its master for approval.

"That's better." The noble nodded judiciously before facing her. When she spoke again, her tone had regained some of its earlier imperiousness, "My familiar is in your care now. Please take good care of it."

"O-of course, milady," Siesta said uncertainly. The familiar was still behaving itself, but Siesta wasn't sure how it would act when its master left them alone.

She took a deep breath and straightened her uniform. She had to get this over quickly and get back to safer work.

"C-come a-along now, ah . . ." Siesta trailed off. "Um, I'm sorry for the presumption, milady, but does your familiar have a name?"

The noble blinked, her expression abruptly falling. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. She turned to face the creature, who stared back at her eagerly.

_Haven't named it yet, then._ Siesta waited patiently as the noble thought it over, glad that the familiar's attention was away from her again.

"Ah, um . . . Noir?" the noble voiced out loud. She quickly scrunched her face in self-disgust. "No, that's stupid and unoriginal. Like Kirche calling her dumb fire salamander Flame. I can do better . . ."

Siesta stayed silent, hoping the noble took as much time as possible—anything to delay being alone with the familiar.

"That legend Cattleya once told me . . . what was that name?" The noble pouted as she thought deeply even as Siesta fidgeted a bit. Suddenly, the girl's face brightened. "Nídhöggr! That's the name!"

The girl suddenly thrust her finger out at the familiar. "Nídhöggr! You are Nídhöggr!"

Sensing its master's enthusiasm, the creature let out a happy cry and bobbed its head excitedly.

"Nídhöggr," its master repeated again, to make sure it understood. "Nídhöggr, yes."

_Hel's dragon, the one gnawing at the roots of the World Tree?_ Siesta considered, remembering the legends she'd been told as a child. She eyed the familiar's rocky-looking scales and remembered the gossip about it being an exceptional digger despite its size and shape. It did fit, and considering how scary it was, there was no doubt it would be right at home in Hel.

And now she was going to be left alone with it. When it was hungry.

She gulped as she bit her lower lip, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

"Nídhöggr, follow the servant," the noble proclaimed happily, apparently quite pleased at the name she'd given.

The familiar looked at Siesta again, and she tried not to cringe. She smiled back, and it even looked natural.

"Well then, please follow me, Nídhöggr," the maid said, gesturing widely in a way she hoped the familiar could comprehend. She hoped her voice wasn't shaking. With a bay, the familiar fell in behind her. Siesta repositioned herself to keep it at a distance and to the side of her.

Satisfied, its master gave another nod before leaving.

Siesta took a good, long breath to fortify herself, mentally giving a prayer to the Founder. Hearing this, the familiar looked at her again.

Well, at least it wasn't looking at her like she was food this time around. That had to count for something, right?

* * *

Illococoo stretched her body and flexed her jaws lazily as she waited at the feeding grounds. The blue dragon had been fidgeting impatiently for a while now. She had wanted to be fed and had been disappointed to find no one there to do so. Normally she would have just gone out to hunt in the nearby forest where Big Sister usually had her stay since she was too big to stay in the academy's stables. However, she'd been feeling lazy today and just wanted an effort-free meal. After all, food you didn't have to chase down was just way more delicious.

Well, there were the other people and familiars in the academy, but Big Sister got angry if she tried to eat them—or even just take a _little_ taste. Big Sister was really scary when she was angry too. Although, she was still tempted; they all just looked so . . . meaty. And there were even more familiars now since many of Big Sister's classmates had just summoned their own familiars.

None of those familiars, though, had been a rhyme dragon like her, and that made her proud. That made Big Sister the best human around since she had done her summoning much earlier and had the best familiar around, although she'd been told to keep the fact she was a rhyme dragon secret. Big Sister didn't like to brag. Or talk much.

"Kyuu!" she let out a self-satisfied cry. Secret or not, best was best.

But then she suddenly remembered the last familiar she'd seen summoned today. That had been weird. A pink-haired human girl had made the summoning ground explode and lay a giant egg. It had been surprising and scary. And the big egg, larger than any she'd ever seen, had also hatched into the biggest hatchling she'd ever seen. It had been a strange black thing that was not a salamander, lizard, or dragon but had smelled strangely similar. The not-dragon had also walked like a bird and dug like a mole. She didn't know what to think of that.

Well, it still clearly wasn't a rhyme dragon like her.

Her stomach growled, and she went back to thinking of more important things. She pawed the ground and flapped her wings impatiently. What was taking the humans so long to get here? She'd been at the academy long enough to know that there were a lot of the humans known as servants running around, and there should be at least one here in case a familiar needed food and needed it _now_.

Then her ears perked up. She heard footsteps approaching. One set of footsteps was clearly human while the other was heavier and shuffled around strangely like it was slowing down deliberately to match the steps of the human. Both were definitely heading this way.

"Kyuu!" she cried again, this time happily. _Finally!_

A human and animal heading this way meant that a familiar was getting fed, and one familiar getting fed meant all familiars around got fed, and she was the only one around right now! She snapped her jaws then licked her lips in anticipation. Eagerly she moved toward the doorway leading to the feeding ground, just a little too quickly.

"Eep!" a young human female yelped in alarm as Illococoo almost ran her over. She was dressed in a way that marked her as what they called a "maid."

Sheepishly, the dragon drew back a bit. Big Sister had always told her not to scare people unless she wanted her too or if they were being mean to her, and she'd just been careless. Besides, you don't bite—or frighten—the hand that feeds you. A happy feeder is a generous feeder.

"Kyuu . . ." Illococoo squeaked in apology.

She heard an inquisitive squawk in reply, and she turned to see the black not-dragon hatchling's reddish-orange eyes looking up at her, blinking. She found herself blinking back. She hadn't expected to meet the not-dragon this soon. It was a hatchling after all, and since it had treated the girl who had summoned it earlier like its mother, Illocooo thought it wouldn't have wanted to leave her side this early.

Oh well, no reason to be rude to a new hatchling, especially since, given its size now, it was probably going to be bigger than her someday. Besides, Big Sister had always told her to try and get along with the other familiars while they were in the academy. Less trouble for both of them that way.

"Hello!" she greeted in the native language of Halkeginia's creatures, although to the maid it sounded like another "Kyuu!", causing her to draw back again nervously. Illococoo ignored her.

The hatchling was a familiar, so it should have no trouble understanding her. The other familiars she'd talked to before had always understood her just fine since the familiar contract's magic made any animal they bound smarter than they should be.

"Hraaa!" was the young not-dragon's reply.

Illococoo blinked. She hadn't understood that at all. That was the first time that had ever happened talking to a fellow familiar. She tried again.

"Hello!"

"Hraaa!"

Still didn't understand that. Did the hatchling even understand what she was saying?

"Do you understand me?"

"Hraaa!"

_Yes? No? Maybe? I don't know!_ she thought grumpily, starting to get annoyed. _Should I repeat the question?_

Before she could decide, the maid began frantically speaking and gesturing placatingly at both of them, "Now now, there's no need to fight. Please calm down! Please! There's more than enough food for both of you!"

The mention of food allowed her to ignore her annoyance at the human misunderstanding what she'd been trying to do. She turned eagerly toward the maid. She'd tried to be nice to the hatchling, and it hadn't understood her. That wasn't her fault, and she'd done as Big Sister had instructed. Now on to more important and tastier things.

Seeing that she had stopped talking to it, the not-dragon turned away from her and started staring at the maid too. Illococoo gave it a quick glance. Did it understand what the maid had said as well, or was it just imitating her? It _was_ still a newly born hatchling.

"All . . . all right, then," the human said haltingly, uncomfortable under both their intent gazes. "Please stay here while I go get you some food."

Then, more firmly, the maid added, "Stay! Wait! I'll have the feeders bring the food, so both of you stay right here. _Stay!_"

Illococoo nodded her head in agreement, giving the girl a "Kyuu!" of assurance even as she tried to suppress even more annoyance. She wasn't stupid. She didn't need to be told to stay like that as if she was some common dog.

Beside her the not-dragon began to roar excitedly. So it _had_ understood the human girl after all. Maybe it had understood her after all and just couldn't talk properly, perhaps because it was still a hatchling. And this was the first time she'd met any a hatchling that wasn't a fellow dragon. For all she knew all hatchlings who became familiars might not be able to talk until they were older.

As the maid started to move away, however, the hatchling began to follow her. Illococoo moved forward and blocked its way. She was the older reptile here, so that made her the big sister. She had to teach the little one—especially while it was still littler than her—because she was older and wiser. You didn't pester a human when they were already getting you food. Pestering them into getting you food in the first place was fine, but not after. That might annoy them and make them not want to get you more.

Blinking up at her, the hatchling gave a questioning moan. Firmly the rhyme dragon declared, "No, we wait here. _You_ wait here. Be patient. The food is coming."

She got a loud, impatient cry in response, and the not-dragon tried to move around her. She let her tail down in front of the hatchling hard and fast enough to produce a loud thud. Startled, the little one jumped back a surprisingly far distance and shrieked at her in anger. Illococoo gave a strict snarl of her own, flapping her wings to accentuate her point.

"You will listen to me!" she demanded. "Listen to Big Sister! _Stay!_"

Oh, she was starting to enjoy playing the big sister. No wonder Big Sister liked to boss her around so much; it felt great! Of course, since the hatchling was young and foolish, it wasn't listening. It tried to move around her again, this time running. She just let her wings give a fast and powerful snap, sending a gust of air at the not-dragon. It was hard enough to knock it over but not hurt it—hard enough to make a point.

_"Hrrrraaaaaaaa!"_ it bellowed, pawing the ground in frustration.

"I told you," the rhyme dragon chided, smug in its newfound authority, "listen to Big Sister! We stay and w—"

Her smugness abruptly deflated when she suddenly realized that the hatchling wasn't having a tantrum; it was _digging_. "No!" she shouted as she lunged at the young'un, trying to grab it before it could escape. She was too slow and ended up with dirt kicked in her face.

Indignantly, Illococoo shook her head and blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the dirt. The nerve of that hatchling! How dare it disrespect its elder! She'd only been trying to teach it to behave. She looked mournfully and irritably at the fresh hole in the ground.

Her eyes widened.

Leading away from the hole was a line of depressed ground—a trail! Following the still moving line with her eyes, she saw that it was heading for a door. A door that she saw the maid was about to enter.

The door to the kitchen.

"Kyuu!"

* * *

Verthandi decided that he really liked his new master. True, it had been quite the shock when he had suddenly been taken away from the comforting familiarity of his burrow for a completely different sort of familiarity, but his new master had been nice enough that he'd been put at ease quite quickly. It helped that Master Guiche had practically doted on him and showered him with affection almost immediately after the contract had been sealed. It had helped him forget the pain of the binding runes that it had magically burned into his skin.

Of course, it helped that the familiar contract had not only magically boosted his intelligence and the ability to understand human speech, but it also nudged his mind toward feelings of warmth, affection, and loyalty toward said master as well. Not that he fully grasped this, but even if he did he wouldn't have minded either.

"Ah, Verthandi, you are indeed such a fine specimen," Master Guiche said, petting his furry body gently. "Truly, you are the largest and healthiest mole I have ever seen, and with such a fine pelt. I could ask for no better familiar."

Verthandi gave a pleased sound in response, reveling in the praise and attention. He looked up at his blond master appreciatively, noting the sheen of his hair, the silken frilled shirt, and the beautiful red rose in his shirt pocket. The mole thought that his master's praises could apply to himself as well. He was a fine-looking human, as far as Verthandi could tell such things, and the way he showed off his chest through his shirt meant that he was showing off how healthy he was. A gentle and strong master; he could ask for no better.

Yes, he could get used to this. It was much more preferable to living out in the wild, constantly hiding from one predator after another and scouring for food underground, with so much competition in the form of his fellow moles.

He turned his eyes around the field—Master Guiche had called it Vestri Court—and studied the other familiars getting to know their masters. There were a few who would have happily preyed on him out in the wild, but for the first time in his life he felt no fear of them. He also felt no hostility from them either as they eyed him neutrally. Some part of him vaguely and unconsciously understood that the distinction of predator and prey didn't exist between them now. He and the rest of the creatures in the field had become familiars, and since their masters had to live around each other and might even work together in the future, it wouldn't do for them to be at each other's throats. Well, mostly anyway. There was that one blue rhyme dragon earlier whose master had kept telling her not to eat them, and that giant snake did seem to be eyeing that raven an awful lot . . . He'd warn the bird later at the first chance.

The peace was suddenly interrupted by the sound of screams and loud crashing. Curious, Verthandi turned toward the commotion. His master stopped petting him to follow his gaze. He was vaguely aware that the other familiars and their masters were doing the same.

Verthandi squinted. Being a mole, his eyesight wasn't all that great at longer distances. He could make out the shape of several humans running toward them, however, as well as a blue blur that was flying in and out of the building. Immediately he began to worry. It was that dragon earlier. Had she decided to disobey her master? Was she trying to eat them?

He turned to his master and gave him a concerned noise. Perhaps they should go somewhere safer, like those running people were. He was a new familiar, after all, and a mole at that. He didn't like the idea of fighting a flying dragon, especially one that smelled like a rhyme dragon. And as strong as his master seemed, he wasn't sure he could take a dragon on either. Before he could make a more urgent sound, some of the screaming people began shouting warnings at them.

"Help! Someone call the teachers!"

"One of familiars is on a rampage!"

"It's eating everything and fighting with that dragon!"

_Wait, what they're running from was fighting the dragon?_ Verthandi squinted again just in time to see the blue blur of the dragon chase a much smaller black blur out of the building. There were loud roars among the sounds of a scuffle as the blue blur tried to pin the black blur, which was apparently fighting back furiously. In the midst of the scary sounds of fighting, Verthandi suddenly heard the familiar sound of digging. The noise of the fight suddenly subsided when the black blur disappeared, but the shocked noises and questions from the people around them more than made up for it. Verthandi tensed nervously as he awaited his master's command, looking at the fight in the distance with increasing trepidation.

He was glad that the rhyme dragon apparently was busy fighting something else. What she was fighting worried him more, however. That black blur could only have been that weird digging hatchling he'd seen earlier—the one his master had called a mole-dragon. Personally, Verthandi doubted the "mole" part, but it _could_ dig very well. Surely the strange familiar had demonstrated some truly fine digging earlier, and as an exceptional digger himself, Verthandi had found that quite admirable. Yes, the young one had some real talent, and he'd even confess to being a bit jealous. He'd never been that good at that comparative age; it had taken time before he'd even been capable of properly moving his legs, let alone burrowing. Still, credit where credit was due.

He had wanted to talk to the strange dragon-like digger and express his expert admiration (and maybe glean a few tips). On the other hand, the other familiar looked too much like a predator, fellow digger or not. In fact, being a fellow digger made that one even more potentially dangerous. A mole's primary defense from predators was digging fast and digging deep after all, and a predator that could dig even faster and deeper was truly horrifying to think about. And with the way it was acting now . . .

"Oh, what's this?" Master Guiche suddenly said, startling him from his thoughts. "It looks like the Zero's curious familiar is causing a bit of trouble and picking fights. Ah, but I guess that's not so surprising. It figures that even when she finally gets one spell right after years of embarrassing failure, it still fails somehow."

Zero? Was that the name of that weird tunneling dragon's master? At any rate, Verthandi nodded in agreement, deferring to his master's judgment. He didn't really know much about this Zero, but if Master Guiche didn't think much of her, then she must be a poor master. The fact that she was letting her familiar run amok and pick fights with a _rhyme dragon_ was proof enough of that.

"She's nowhere in sight too. How irresponsible," his master continued. "Although I guess she's still getting cleaned up now. That was a truly awful and disgusting mess earlier."

Master Guiche turned to look at him, a confident smile on his face.

"Well, looks like it's up to us to set that familiar right, hm? After all, who better to control an earth familiar than an earth mage and his own familiar?"

Verthandi blinked. What? Master couldn't possibly be thinking ab—

"I wanted to have a closer look at that familiar anyway. I'm sure you're as curious as I am about it, right?"

That was exactly what his master was thinking! In his rising alarm Verthandi began to desperately shake his massive head, loudly squealing his dissent. To his horror, the mage wasn't listening at all and had a look of cocky consideration on his face.

"Besides, it never hurts to be proactive and dashing," Master Guiche preened. "That sets one apart from one's peers and impresses women to no end, and how could I, a proud son of House De Gramont, let such an opportunity pass me by? It would shame my father should I fail to seize the initiative."

Verthandi could only stare at his master, knowing in despair than nothing was going to change his mind now. Master Guiche had declared that he was doing this to impress females, and he'd been around long enough to know that nothing deterred a young male out to impress prospective mates.

The young mage made a sweeping gesture as he turned, causing his cloak to flare out dramatically as he started walking toward the commotion. Verthandi trailed behind him hesitantly, plodding along awkwardly on the ground. His legs were built more for digging than walking, not that he was in any particular hurry to get between two fighting dragons.

The mole sighed in resignation. He really hoped his master knew what he was doing.

Note: And, no, I am not copping out on describing the row between Illococoo/Slyphid and Zilla Jr. That's what most of next chapter is for.


End file.
